


Trophy

by JoyHeart



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Freeform, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Not Canon Compliant, Past Elias/Peter, Rating May Change, but i might get him down later, but peter is deffo dead, elias got what he wanted out of the apocalypse, elias is out to seduce and martin isnt having it, elias probably just misses his on again off again husband tbh idk, honestly im probably going to be keeping this pretty light, i literally dont know if i'll write this fic to completion or not im just fucking around, jon is largely playing the role of an insentient eye-covered disco ball, not consistently seriously, now he just wants to rub it in, sorry in advance, trophy husband, well sort of seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 23:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoyHeart/pseuds/JoyHeart
Summary: Martin Blackwood had self-esteem issues. That shouldn’t have been news to anyone, and to some extent Martin knew a lot of his worst thoughts about himself were unfounded. Obviously he deserved human decency and respect like everyone else, and he must have some level of appeal if Jon claimed to love him. But he also knew he wasn’t exactly classically handsome, and certainly didn’t think anyone would consider him worth propositioning, least of all after the world ended and his boyfriend had gone and given in to the apparently irresistible temptation to float silently around the ceiling of the panopticon like a creepy, eye-covered human-shaped disco ball.Least of all did he expect to be propositioned by Elias Fucking Bouchard. Or Jonah Magnus might have been more accurate. Honestly Martin preferred the name Elias for him, it sounded slimier, even though that might be an insult on the memory of the poor soul that inhabited that body before he had his eyes ripped out.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Elias Bouchard, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 27
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had a vision of Elias post-apocalypse deciding to seduce Martin and I guess this happened. Bonjour.

**Trophy**

**1**

Martin Blackwood had self-esteem issues. That shouldn’t have been news to anyone, and to some extent Martin knew a lot of his worst thoughts about himself were unfounded. Obviously he deserved human decency and respect like everyone else, and he must have some level of appeal if Jon claimed to love him. But he also knew he wasn’t exactly classically handsome, and certainly didn’t think anyone would consider him worth propositioning, least of all after the world ended and his boyfriend had gone and given in to the apparently irresistible temptation to float silently around the ceiling of the panopticon like a creepy, eye-covered human-shaped disco ball.

Least of all did he expect to be propositioned by Elias Fucking Bouchard. Or Jonah Magnus might have been more accurate. Honestly Martin preferred the name Elias for him, it sounded slimier, even though that might be an insult on the memory of the poor soul that inhabited that body before he had his eyes ripped out.

“I’m sorry, come again?” Martin asked through his teeth from the center of the panopticon’s tower where he had, up until mere moments ago, been staring up at Jon with a mixture of despair and desperation for some means of getting him down. Maybe he could have found a ladder.

But no, before he could think of anything approaching a means of rescue, Elias had slunk out of the shadows like the viper he was, with a smile that was all teeth and a suit more crisp and grey than ever before, and offered something utterly ridiculous.

“I said, seeing as your _boyfriend_ has abandoned you to achieve his higher calling as my Archive and you seem reluctant to take up your post in your own domain, perhaps you would like to stay in the panopticon as my, well, I suppose you might consider ‘trophy husband’ to be a little trite or insulting, but I still think it’s accurate.”

“ _Trophy husband_? You are the most- you’ve got to be joking. There’s no way in hell you’re serious. I’m not going to- no! Why would you even _want_ that?” Martin waved his hands wildly as he spoke, feeling more deeply scandalized than he ever had in his life.

“Well,” Elias hummed, putting his hands in his pockets in a way that made him look like a businessman posing faux-casual for a posh magazine, “It seems to me I’ve managed to get almost everything I could want out of this apocalypse so far. I rule on high over a sea of fear in my beautiful Institute, never to age or be killed. My Archive is finally in his proper place of course; a lovely work of art that really brings the whole aesthetic together if you ask me. But seeing as Jon decided to go out of his way to outright _murder_ my husband… well, ex-husband but honestly it can be hard to keep track after the fifth filing. Anyway, I believe it would be ah… _thematically appropriate_ for me to scoop up his significant other as my own now that he’s less of a human and more of a loud decorative chandelier.”

“Don’t talk about him like that! He’s still- he can hear you!”

“Well yes, he hears and sees everything now. But I can’t say I’m sure he can _understand_ what I’m saying about him. He Knows and records and plays back, but I believe it’s evident from how he stumbled blindly from one fear to another at my call that the Eye never saw need for him to understand much of anything.”

“You’re making him sound like a glorified tape recorder,” Martin hissed, hands clenching into hard fists as Elias laughed.

“Well now, isn’t that a fitting metaphor? The great poet strikes again.”

The grin on his face was unsettling, and put Martin ill at ease. “You’re in a good mood, aren’t you?”

“Martin, I just told you that I’ve received nearly everything I’ve always wanted. Of course I’m in a great mood! I know you’re upset over Jon right now but, well, eternity is a long time. I’m sure if you’re not ready to tie the knot and take up with the most eligible bachelor on a ruined earth at the moment, I can wear you down eventually. And until then, I’m more than content to keep an eye on you.” Then the bastard had the nerve to blatantly rake his eyes over Martin’s body. It gave him the bizarre urge to cover himself with his hands as though he were naked, not that he thought that would do any good. It was the principle of the thing.

“Cut that out!” Martin snapped, “Are you absolutely mental?! I will _never_ agree to- to _marry_ you! Or anything else with you for that matter! I’m going to get Jon back, and we’re getting out of here, and we’re going to find a way to kill you and get the world back!”

Elias blinked at him slowly, then rolled his eyes up to his immaculately styled eyebrows. “Fine, if you must exhaust yourself looking for solutions that don’t exist, I’m not going to stop you. Feel free to try everything at your disposal to get him down, or to reach him. And when that fails, you can leave the panopticon and go play in the tunnels where I can’t see you, though I will _know_ you’re there of course, there aren’t that many blind spots in this world. I’m sure you’ll cobble together some ridiculous plan and return only to fail again.”

“I’m sure that _somewhere_ in this messed up world I can find someone who can help me. Heck, I’d even pick allying with Annabelle Cane over you!”

Elias frowned then, the first time since he had appeared, and Martin fought to stop himself from taking a step backwards. “Hm. I wouldn’t be so keen to run into the arms of the spiders if I were you. I know you’ve always had an… _affinity_ for the creatures, but without the Archive ensuring your protection even less powerful Avatars might cause you significant pain and anguish. As the spider is the best at avoiding the Eye’s gaze, I would also imagine it would be the only Entity capable of actually killing you. And quite frankly I think that would be a waste.”

“Oh yeah? Well that just sounds like all the more reason to get in contact. If the Web’s that good at getting under your nose, I’ll bet if there’s a way to break Jon free Annabelle Cane’s exactly the Avatar I should be talking to!”

Elias definitely did not look impressed by that declaration. “If you’re going to openly suggest walking into the arms of death, maybe I shouldn’t be letting you leave the panopticon at all.” His lips quirked up. “I suppose you can consider yourself grounded.”

Martin’s jaw dropped indignantly. “What! You can’t… you can’t _ground_ me! I’m not a child, and you have no right to keep me here!”

“Well, I agree you’re not a child. But you’ll find that as King of the World, I can really do whatever I want. And if I decide to keep you around to ensure your safety while I gradually seduce you, so it shall be.”

“S-s-seduce?!” Martin was sure his face was as red as his hair at this point. “W-what the _fuck_ is wrong with you? What’s the point? God, surely you could have any number of people far more attractive than me happy to sleep with you if that’s all you want!”

Now Elias was approaching him, and Martin swallowed hard. He was unable to avoid backing up a few hesitant steps but the other man was faster. Though the top of Elias’s head only came up to Martin’s chin, the man bled enough sheer power at this point that he felt much larger, especially as he placed a hand on Martin’s shoulder and stood on his toes to whisper into Martin’s ear, his voice chillingly soft.

“Oh but Martin, for a man who has it all, where’s the fun without a chase? Besides, you sell yourself short. Your newfound confidence these past years has made you _devastatingly_ attractive.”

“Confidence, right,” Martin drew out, his face turning into a firm frown as he finally got the nerve to put a steady hand on Elias’s chest and pushed the man backwards. Though he got the sense he could’ve remained where he was had he wanted to, Elias allowed himself to be pushed with an amused glint in his eye. “Well then I can tell you, confidently, that you are the most evil man on the planet, my boyfriend is still plainly visible above us, and _I don’t find **you** attractive.”_

Now it was Elias’s turn to drop his jaw and furrow his brow as a noise of indignation came from his throat. “You-” Then he squinted at Martin very hard for a moment before snorting, a smile curling back onto his face. That wasn’t a good sign. “Oh Martin, lies do not become you.”

“What? I wasn’t lying!”

“Hm, perhaps you may have managed to make yourself believe that, but a part of you remembers that little fondness you had for me back in the early days of your archival career. I’m sure even if your mind currently rejects me for my actions, your body will still remember how interested you were when you’d watch me leave a room…”

“Oh my god!” Martin was thoroughly scandalized now. “Seriously, stay out of my head! Nothing you just said has any bearing on how I feel now that I know who you really are!”

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time to see if that’s true,” Elias shrugged, finally stepping away properly to allow Martin some space. “I suppose I’ll leave you to think about my offer on your own for a while, and to acquaint yourself with where you’ll be staying for now. The panopticon is outfitted with anything one might want to enjoy an eternity where basic human needs aren’t required, so you won’t find a kitchen or tea kettle unfortunately. But of course, there’s always a bed in case you would want to rest or, well anything else.”

“I hate you,” Martin said. It was the only thing he could think to say.

“I don’t think that’s going to matter, in the long run,” Elias said with a dismissive air that Martin wished he could find the drive to punch away. “Of course if you don’t want to explore and would rather just stay in here staring at the vessel that once held your ex, I won’t stop you. It’s not as though that will cause you any harm besides perhaps some psychological trauma. Though I would think it’s a bit pitiful of you.”

“As if I care what you think,” Martin growled, arms folding across his chest defensively as Elias tittered.

“If you say so. I’ll be in my office if you need anything at all,” Elias said as he finally turned away and then disappeared back through the door from which he had come in. Martin turned on the spot to search for the ornate door he and Jon had entered the main part of the panopticon through, but found that door had apparently vanished.

“Of course. Unbelievable.” Martin muttered, looking at the few other doors encircling the room and then looking up again at Jon high above him. He didn’t look scared, at least. His mouth was moving, and Martin could hear some snatches of long-winded dialogue. He was covered in eyes, glowing and green, but otherwise he really just looked like he did when he was reading a statement. Maybe that’s all that had happened, he’s just trapped reciting statements.

That was easier to grasp than the idea he was gone. He just needed something to snap him out of it. Martin had snapped Jon out of statements before, a few times. Surely if he could just get up high enough to reach him, he could get him to stop.

There really wasn’t anything in that circular space that was going to get him up there, though. And since leaving the panopticon had ceased to be an option, Martin supposed he was going to have to, urgh, take Elias’s advice and explore the place.

“Don’t worry Jon, I’m going to figure this out and help you. Just sit tight, okay?” Martin said quietly, fairly certain that Jon would hear him anyway. Then he looked to the door nearest him, sighed deeply, and made to push it open.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin tries to get up to Jon, and it's even harder than he thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, more of this! Again, sorry in advance I really don't have like... a plan for this fic? So there is a very VERY good chance I'm going to just stop writing it at some point when I run out of ideas. Still got some mild thoughts for a few more anyway though.

**2**

The panopticon wasn’t really as elaborate as Martin would have thought Elias’s seat of power would have been. Then again, Elias had always seemed more interested in the utilitarian aspect of a space above a strictly aesthetic one. At least one could assume as much given how lacklustre and boring The Magnus Institute had looked during the time of Martin’s employment (was he still technically employed there? He hadn’t exactly quit). It was clear that the panopticon was shaped to serve whatever needs Elias decided he wanted to maintain and little else. This meant that in the end there wasn’t really that much to explore, though Martin steadfastly ignored the door that supposedly led to Elias’s ‘office’. He was in no way prepared to deal with what Elias had _offered_ , and he was clinging to the hope that he might be able to rescue Jon before he had to talk to him again.

By unfortunate coincidence, the first door Martin tried revealed Elias’s bedroom. It was fairly dark inside, there was clearly a window but a heavy curtain was drawn across it. The bed was huge, Martin’s first thought went to King-sized though honestly it was probably bigger. He scoffed. He doubted very much Elias’s patron allowed him to sleep. Besides, it seemed like he was alone up there, so who was he trying to impress with all those big squishy pillows and that silky smooth green comforter? In idle curiosity, Martin tried to open the cabinets of the armoire to see if Elias had a whole wardrobe of unnecessary suits to ride out the apocalypse in. One look inside immediately caused Martin to break into a blush and slam the thing shut hard enough to rattle it.

Apparently Elias was kinky. Very kinky. Martin wished he’d gone the rest of his life never learning that. But what was the point if Elias was alone up here?

_But he wasn’t planning on being alone up here forever, was he? He knew you’d be coming from the start._

The thought came to Martin’s head unbidden but it definitely turned his stomach. Elias wanted to use that stuff on _him_ , right? God that was… some of those things were HUGE! And… weirdly shaped! And a lot of that was made to cause pain, Martin knew that well enough. Well, Martin would be lying to say the idea of a little light bondage and spanking never appealed to him, but it wasn’t something he ever planned to seek out and definitely not to whatever extent Elias had planned.

Whatever, it wasn’t going to come to that. Martin was going to get out of there one way or another, he just needed to pool his resources and find a solution. So ignoring the armoire, Martin went straight to the bed and stripped it of its comforter and sheets, dragging them out of the room and into the center of the tower where he left them in a pile under Jon, following with the squishy pillows. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Martin didn’t find much helpful in the bathing room which contained a massive hot tub and absolutely nothing resembling a toilet (of course Elias wouldn’t be bothered with that, he’d ensured an apocalypse where no one ever need to shit again so at least he didn’t have that unsavory fetish thank god) though surrounding the tub were large windows taking up most of the wall and looking out onto the traumatized city below them. Occasionally one of those weird eye drone things would fly by and wave at Martin. Martin scowled back.

There was a sitting room with a cozy fire and two squishy armchairs in it, one noticeably larger than the other. Again, an entire curving wall was encompassed by a window, without even the option of a curtain to hide it. Apparently there wasn’t much privacy in the panopticon either, though it figured that Elias had long become comfortable with the idea of being watched.

Actually, now that Martin thought of it, maybe he had become used to being watched too. If he concentrated and really tried to parse out the feeling he definitely did think he could feel eyes on him but, well, that feeling had been following him for years at this point. It was practically white noise, though he was fairly certain he wouldn’t get used to… things… just peering in the windows at him when he wasn’t expecting them. Not that being in the center of the tower away from the windows meant he was out of view, since if he squinted upwards there was always at least a few of Jon’s eyes trained on him.

Well, that was different. That was _Jon_ watching him, and as long as Jon wasn’t looking into his head he certainly didn’t mind otherwise. Though it was possible he _was_ looking into his mind now of course but… well, it’s hardly his fault if he’s being controlled by a fear god, is it?

After a quick look around the space (tasteful, understated, notably had a couple of plastic fichus plants in the corner for some reason), Martin grabbed the smaller of the two chairs and carried it into the tower. He returned for the large one and pushed it from its spot into the tower’s center as well, wincing at the scrape and screech of its metal legs along first the wood and then stone floor beyond the door’s threshold. They were left next to the pile of bed covers, and Martin frowned at his spoils. This wasn’t much to work with, and there was really only two doors left, one of them Elias’s office.

However, as Martin opened the door to the last room he was willing to infiltrate, he let out a low whistle. Jackpot.

*

“Martin, what exactly are you hoping to accomplish with this?”

Martin let out a short yelp and slid halfway down the pile of books he had been climbing, dropping the armful he had been looking to deposit at the top. He turned a frustrated glare at Elias who stood at the base of his tower with a look of disapproval. Great. He can disapprove all he wants. Martin scrambled against his slippery mountain of hardcovers and paperbacks to get some kind of footing and slid a little further down toward Elias, much to his frustration.

“Well, since you seem to have outfitted your evil tower with a library holding every book known to man, I figured they would make a decent makeshift ladder. Since the rolling ladders in there are pretty firmly attached to the shelves as it turns out.” It had taken Martin quite a while to pile up the number of books that he had so far. He hadn’t gotten tired at any point bringing them into the center of the tower armful by armful, but it was tedious work. He’d spent a lot of the time shouting words of reassurance up at Jon, hoping that some small part of him took heart in the fact that Martin hadn’t given up on him.

For the sake of stability, Martin had initially attempted to build something of a pyramid, using the books like bricks. Unfortunately they weren’t really all uniform in size and thickness, and the walls quickly began to collapse under Martin’s weight when he started needing to climb it to put more on top. Rather than waste more time reassembling the foundation, Martin had resorted to just kind of piling them up and scrambling to keep his footing. The chairs were somewhere buried in the middle of the thing so the center of the pile had something to lean against in the beginning, and the blankets and pillows were piled in the corner of the room, possibly to be used later to tie to Jon’s leg or something to pull him down.

As it was though, the pile only made it perhaps a quarter of the way to the ceiling, and Martin couldn’t imagine he made a very impressive sight as he shifted and slid down even further, his shirt riding up on him from the friction. Not that Elias seemed inclined to look away as he slid slowly but surely to the bottom where his feet finally found purchase on the ground, though a little too far apart of stand on and he had to flail a little to avoid falling on his ass.

Taking a breath, he turned around to face Elias properly and raised an eyebrow as if daring the bastard to say something. To which he of course obliged, the bastard.

“Not a very sturdy ladder, is it?”

“Oh fuck off, Elias!” Martin swore, ignoring the man as he swept by him to head back into the library for another load. At least Elias didn’t seem inclined to try stopping him. Which, if Martin stopped to examine that, probably spoke to the fact that there was likely no way his stairway of books idea was going to work. Elias surely wouldn’t let him try if it even had a chance of succeeding. But damn it, Martin was _not_ just going to sit on his hands when he was this close to the man he loved. He had to believe it would work because at the moment he was not ready to consider the implications of it _not_ working.

“So really this is your ‘let’s just get to the panopticon and hit the ‘reverse apocalypse button’ plan again, isn’t it?” Elias asked, voice as irritatingly crisp as his suit when Martin strode back into the room with more books. He made sure to walk by Elias and start climbing the pile from a side that wouldn’t deposit him directly at the man’s feet if he slid down again. Of course when Martin glanced down behind him, he found that Elias had moved to ensure that exact potential scenario.

“Get out of my head! Seriously, it’s _incredibly_ rude! And no, it’s not like that at all. We had no idea what we’d find in here, but I _know_ that Jon’s up there. So I’m going to get him down. Even if I can’t snap him out of it that easily I know I can do that much. And if you’re not going to actively stop me, the least you can do is leave me alone while I do it.”

“I could,” Elias agreed readily enough, “But though I can watch you from my office easily enough, there is just something extra delicious about seeing you from his angle in person.”

Martin, whose legs were splayed rather widely at the moment from halfway up his book pile, let out a rather embarrassing squeak and quickly pulled them together. “Oh my god! No, no you don’t get to say stuff like that. You- you- you just go stand over there! And turn around!” Martin demanded, pointing across the room. To his surprise, Elias shrugged with a disarming smile and crossed the room, even going so far as to turn around. Watching the back of his head for a moment, Martin started climbing his books again.

When he reached the top he dumped the books in his arm there. At this point it really felt like adding to a sandcastle grain by grain, but it at least felt like he was doing something. He paused before heading down again. He hadn’t really spared a moment to really examine the books he had been stacking, but now he did notice that one of the books he had just left was in fact an anthology of seventeenth century English poets. It had been quite a while since he sat down with some good poems.

“If you would like to take a break and indulge in you’re ever endearing love of poetry, I would normally suggest retiring to the sitting room. Though seeing as you’ve already acquisitioned and buried my reading chairs, I suppose that really only leaves the bedroom doesn’t it?”

Martin’s knuckles turned white as he clutched the book in his hands. “I thought I told you not to look!” He glared across the room to see Elias in exactly the position he left him in, though his shoulders were shaking in laughter.

“No, you told me to turn around. Obviously I can still _see_ you Martin. I can see you no matter where you are in the world save for very few blind spots, and there’s certainly no blind spots in here. You’ll simply have to get used to it.”

“I don’t have to do anything!” Martin snapped, though he kept holding the book as he edged himself down his mountain again. Surely it didn’t matter if he kept one book aside with the blankets, he could put it in his bag and take it with him and Jon when they left to regroup.

“You are _really_ clinging to that delusion of potential escape, aren’t you?”

“I said, SHUT UP!” Martin shouted as he dropped his book on a pillow and started marching back into the library. To his dismay, Elias followed him in this time, watching as Martin bypassed the first two long, wide shelves he had emptied and moved to the third that was halfway done. He… he really had been at this a while. Elias probably had come out because he was bored or something.

The library was the only room without windows save for the center of the tower, and even that had a stained glass one in the middle of its ceiling in the shape of, what else, an eye. The library instead was set up in a manner that reminded Martin a bit of artefact storage, and he had wondered briefly if that room had been repurposed into this. The shelves were very tall, very long, crammed full, and seemed to stretch on into the darkness an incredibly long way. Rolling ladders ran along the shelves, though from what Martin could tell there was no real system of organization to it. Then again, if Elias could just ‘know’ things, he could probably find whatever book he was looking for without one. Actually, should he really need books at all if he could just know whatever he wanted? Maybe he just liked having them.

If Elias was even a halfway decent person, Martin might have asked to satiate his wonderings. But Elias was a slimy world-ending prick, so Martin didn’t want to know any more about his thought processes than he had to.

“As much as watching this exercise in futility is fascinating, you really are much stronger physically than I had once imagined, I feel like I should speed along your comprehension on why this isn’t going to work.”

“Oh yeah? Well don’t,” Martin said petulantly as he walked back with another armload.

“Martin, your pile is already collapsing. Even if you had piled it against a wall- which really you should have if you wanted it to gain any decent height before this inevitably happened anyway- it’s going to just keep falling until-”

“Are you actually incapable of being quiet? Have you been that starved for the sound of your own voice in here? I’m busy!” Martin made to pass Elias again but instead the man’s hand shot out and covered Martin’s forehead.

Immediately, a very sharp image filled Martin’s mind. His book pile about twice the size that it currently was, having collapsed slowly enough times that the edge of it was already up to the library’s door so he was climbing it the second he entered the tower room. He would scramble to the top to toss more books on, and then the pile would shudder, slip, and bury the door completely. He could dig it out, but it would only collapse again and again each time he managed to pile the books higher, eventually trapping him entirely outside of the library and a good ten meters below Jon.

When Elias released him, Martin realised he was on his knees with tears running down his cheeks. As soon as he realised this the tears abruptly stopped and he wiped them away, but he was left feeling extremely shaken and somewhat violated.

“Don’t do that!” Martin managed to gasp after a moment of working his mouth soundlessly.

“You would rather I let you learn the hard way by trapping yourself? Hardly seems like the right thing to do. Isn’t that something you’re always on about? Doing the ‘right thing’?”

“I don’t mean- alright, yes, fine. You’re right, this won’t… this won’t work. Damn it. But I meant, don’t go putting images in my head! It’s creepy, and it feels weird, and it… it…”

Elias hummed, “Reminds you of when I made you privy to certain information regarding your mother?”

Martin’s cheeks flushed red. “Yes, that. So don’t do it.”

“Well Martin, you can hardly fault me to resorting to the direct approach when you won’t even let me get a word in edgewise. I’d say it’s rather rude to tell your host to shut up.”

“It’s not when your host is your _jail keeper.”_

“Ah, semantics,” Elias shrugged and Martin once again was very close to punching him. “Anyway, seeing as you’re now aware of how laughably flawed this plan was, you won’t mind if I tidy up? I do so hate leaving a mess too long.”

“Yeah, sure,” Martin muttered, feeling listless. At least it might be funny watching Elias slowly bringing all the books back into the library and shelving them one by one.

Of course, Martin wasn’t even granted that small boon as he was suddenly overcome by a wave of vertigo that left him reeling, doubled over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath as the floor, the walls, even the _air_ felt like it was bucking and churning around him.

If he had eaten anything in the last however long he likely would have thrown it up. As it was, when the feeling passed he had no choice but to fall into a sit on the floor while Elias stood over him looking far too pleased with himself.

“Urgh, don’t tell me,” Martin muttered as he looked over his shoulder, fighting the queasy feeling in his stomach. Sure enough, the shelves were stocked again as though they had never been touched. Looking back toward the door into the tower, he found it empty. Even the chairs and bed clothes were gone. That was a lot of work for absolutely nothing.

“Oh I don’t know if it was for nothing, Martin. Sometimes in order to really know something it’s best to try it out for yourself. It was a fun experiment, and now you Know that it won’t work, don’t you?”

“You’re a royal arsehole, that’s what I know.”

To Martin’s confused horror, Elias looked very pleased, practically preening under the insult. “Ah yes, I really did miss this.”

“Miss what? Someone insulting you? Didn’t think that’s what you’d be into.”

Now Elias rolled his eyes. “The _banter_ , Martin. Honestly when you’re married to an avatar of the Lonely it’s really what most of your relationship boils down to. Well, that and the mind blowing hate sex of course.”

Martin’s eyes widened comically as Elias bent over him. He was too stunned to even stop him from curling a finger into Martin’s already too-curly hair. “And while I can’t See the future I do have a strong feeling that when you get over your reservations, our couplings will be just as satisfying. Perhaps even moreso, you have more reason to hide any fondness for me after all. Peter was really at his most annoying when he gave in and called me a sincere pet name. That sparked at least two separate divorces actually.”

Martin shook his head slowly though Elias didn’t let go of him. “I’m not sure you know what a marriage is supposed to be about.”

Elias tugged at Martin’s hair and the poor boy on the floor whined in the back of his throat. “I’ve had more experience with it than you, haven’t I? Perhaps a regular human marriage can afford to be more… soft, I suppose. But when you’re in a relationship spanning over a century, you learn to enjoy what you’re best at and then largely leave each other alone otherwise. And when you’re monsters, what you're best at isn’t often cuddles and sweet words whispered under the moonlight.”

“Well I’m not a monster, and I quite like both those things, so clearly whatever you’ve got planned here is also doomed from the start.” Like my book ladder, Martin added in his head. By the sour look that crossed Elias’s face, he suspected he had heard that too.

The expression cleared, though. “And as I said, sometimes in order to _really_ know something, it’s best to try it out for yourself. Besides, your logic is already a bit flawed.” Martin’s face paled as Elias leaned closer to him, so close their foreheads nearly brushed each other. Martin’s wide eyes met the intense, nearly-black ones with a sharp dread beating in the back of his skull. “In this world you’re a monster too, Martin.”

Something in him snapped then, and Martin reared back and then head-butted Elias clean off of him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elias misses his ex-husband I guess, damn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continue to be fucking around with this. I don't know if this chapter counts as an idea or not. Next chapter should be a little more shenanigan heavy and missing-your-shitty-boyfriend light.

**3**

Elias’s bloody nose didn’t last for long, but Martin was extremely satisfied to see it before it fixed itself. If Elias wasn’t so connected with his god, Martin might have even broken it.

“That was uncalled for,” Elias muttered as the blood flow stemmed and he pulled a pristine handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the red from his upper lip. Martin’s own lip curled as he pushed himself back up to his feet and put some space between the two of them.

“Well I disagree,” Martin said haughtily. “You deserve a lot worse if you ask me!”

Elias’s eyes sparked. “Really? You know if you’re interested in getting some of your rage out with ah… _punishment_ , I could be persuaded…”

“Urgh, not like that! Do you have to be so… creepy? God, I just meant- when we got here, I wanted Jon to kill you! I don’t want to do anything to you that you’d _like!_ ”

“Ah yes, encouraging your boyfriend to kill people brutally. Definitely not monstrous at all, my mistake.”

“That’s different! Those weren’t _people_ , those were… monsters! Torturing people and having fun doing it! And I thought… I thought it might help the people they were torturing.” Martin looked away as soon as he finished, already knowing the weakness in his defense.

Elias wasn’t going to let him ignore it. “Of course you did, though after the first one it should have been evident that killing the Avatars did nothing to help the people left behind. So really, the only thing killing them did was make _you_ feel better. Well, you and Jon I suppose, though he did seem more concerned with his own grievances than yours. He certainly wasn’t accommodating when you begged him to kill a man because you were jealous, was he?”

“That was- I was j-joking!” Martin flushed. “Mostly. Anyway, as if you have any right to judge! You doomed the world!”

“I’m not judging,” Elias shrugged. His nose was fine now, as irksome as that was. “I’ve certainly never seen anything wrong with killing someone that annoyed me enough if I had no other use for them. But of course, I also don’t see the point in lying to myself about still holding some trace of humanity. This body is as much of a suit as, well, my suit.” He fiddled for a moment with one of his shirt cuffs and Martin grit his teeth.

“That doesn’t mean I’m one! I’m not going around hurting innocent people!”

Elias’s eyes hardened. “Martin, you’ve _seen_ your domain here. The very fact you’re able to stand here before me now and are not being ripped apart by some other avatar is because you _are_ one now. Your life here is as sustained by human fears as much as mine or Jon’s or anyone else’s.”

Martin bit his lip. He knew that, of course. Jon had explained that well enough. And he knew that was… that was terrible, awful, but he didn’t _want_ it. He didn’t _choose_ it, and he wasn’t participating any more than was forced on him.

“As I’ve said,” Elias went on, leaving Martin to guess at how much of his train of thought the man was listening in on. Probably all of it, really. It was dreadfully unfair. “If you are so unwilling to stay in your own domain, this is the only other safe place for you to be. You really ought to be thanking me for allowing this.”

Martin’s eyes narrowed. He’d had just about enough. Turning on his heel, he stalked out of the library and back into the tower. Chairs, bed covers and books had all been returned, and Jon still floated overhead, the quiet mumble of his voice ever-present. Arguing with Elias over whether Martin counted as a good person or not wasn’t going to get Jon down, or save the world, and it certainly wasn’t going to make him feel better.

Martin needed a plan B. And there was only one more room in the tower he hadn’t checked yet, presuming Elias wasn’t going to stop him from snooping. Probably not, since it wasn’t like he couldn’t watch him do it anyway.

The door to the office wasn’t locked and swung inward like the rest of them. The interior was at the same time a surprise and really, not a surprise at all.

Apparently Elias’s new ‘office’ was really more of his throne room. Figures, his ego really had no reason not to manifest itself now that he’d achieved his centuries-long dream after all. The space was as utilitarian and boring as the rest of the tower when it got down to it, honestly would it kill him to get an interior decorator? It’s not like they could say no… anyway, the space was obnoxiously big if nothing else, with a marbled tile floor and sleek, curving walls. Following the same pattern of putting an oversized space where it shouldn’t logically fit that the library seemed to, the office/throne room was massive and set up much like a viewing gallery. Sat on a pedestal covered in ornate carved eyes was a tall, black throne that looked _suspiciously_ like Elias’s comfy office chair and was probably a very cozy place from which to watch all the horrors of the world.

Again there was a window overlooking the hell scape that was Big Brother’s London, though this one seemed even more massive than the ones in the other rooms, a high ceiling allowing for a bigger skyline and… well, as worrying as it was, the horizon looked further away than usual, to a point where as Martin stared at it, he almost thought he could see distant mountains. And as he continued to stare they began to take further shape, became easier to see… there was movement on them… were those… people?

Martin was startled out of his fugue by a hand landing firmly in his hair and yanking his head backwards so he was staring at the ceiling instead. “AH! What the hell?! Let go!”

“Believe me Martin, I’m well aware how hypnotic the wonders of this new world can be, but staring too long might cause you some nasty side effects when you aren’t as directly linked to our god as I am. You’re more suited to being watched than doing the watching, I think.” Elias tugged Martin’s hair almost playfully before finally releasing him. Martin rubbed the back of his neck and glanced briefly out the window again with a frown before turning back to his captor.

“So you just sit in here all day and watch the horrors of the world, hm? Bit of a boring eternity if you ask me.”

“I have books,” Elias sounded slightly defensive. Martin rolled his eyes.

“Oh yes, books for the man who already _knows_ everything. Surely that isn’t annoying, always having the ending spoiled.”

“ _Sometimes_ it’s more about the journey than the destination. Surely even you know that much.”

Martin nodded with his lips tight and then gestured dramatically around the room. “Oh _yeah_ , the journey for sure. I WISH I was back on that journey to get here. Frankly the company was a lot better, and this destination? It sucks. This tower _sucks_ Elias. Is this really what your big end goal was? Spending the rest of eternity sitting in your glorified office chair watching horror shows forever? Occasionally pursuing a dusty library and sitting around? You don’t even have _tea_! You can’t even sleep, can you? Just sitting up here alone forever, that’s really what you wanted? _Really?”_

“Of course not. I’ve got you here, don’t I?” Elias smirked and Martin’s hands clenched into fists. “Honestly Martin, you’re lucky you’re pretty. Imagine if I had you here for intelligent conversation? Then even _I_ would question how I was spending my eternity.”

“Oh you- you’re impossible, you know that?! Absolutely the most evil, horrible person I’ve ever met in my life!” Martin snapped. “You know what? I’d _rather_ be out there trapped in one of the fear domains, because literally _anything_ this world could throw at me would be better than spending the rest of my life around you!”

Elias stared up at Martin with a look that was hard to read. It was almost blank, but something glittered behind his eyes. Then with what must have been supernatural speed, Elias grabbed Martin by his shirt collar, pulled him down and kissed him.

Martin made a startled noise and glued his lips shut against Elias’s probing tongue and grabbed the man’s wrists to pull him off. But it was like pulling a barnacle off a ship’s hull, he felt some progress but it felt almost like more effort than it was worth. So Martin just straightened up instead. Though the hand’s followed, he was definitely out of reach of his ex-boss’s lips. Thank god he was tall.

“Well that’s hardly fair,” Elias muttered, and a quick glance revealed the man was practically _pouting_. Martin grimaced.

“Seriously? Forcing a kiss on someone is messed up! And you are acting so _weird_. Whatever happened to when you were the creepy evil boss that spoke in cryptic nonsense and never came out of his office and would probably rather die than touch me, hm? Let’s go back to that. And get your hands off my shirt!”

Elias narrowed his eyes but did finally let go, folding his arms instead. Now he looked petulant, certainly not a look Martin had ever seen on the man before. “Yes, well you may recall that back when I was actively acting as _your boss,_ which denotes a certain amount of decorum anyway I might add, my picture of you was a dullard with no education who simpered after the archivist and made tea and was likely to end up worm food at the first opportunity. The fact you survived your first monster encounter seemed more like dumb luck than anything else at the time. By the time you _actually_ proved yourself interesting I was a little too busy to try anything, and then you sent me to prison and there was the bet with Peter to deal with…” Elias sighed and finally looked away, trailing off on whatever rant he was on.

Martin blinked, awash with sudden understanding. “You actually _miss_ him, don’t you? You didn’t want Jon to kill him. You wanted him here with you. I’m not here to get back at Jon, I’m… I’m replacing Peter Lukas.”

Elias stiffened. “So what? Anyone could have replaced that idiot. You know, I can’t even _blame_ Jon, can I? Peter just HAD to be a sore loser and _throw_ himself in my archive’s path! I told him to just let him into the Lonely and mark him, and then send him on his way empty handed and broken. He wasn’t even supposed to find you a second time! Just the first time to drive home how alone he was, and then sent out to cry about it.”

Martin’s heart thudded dully in his chest. He should have known, of course. Elias really didn’t have a reason to focus on him, and after sending him to prison he would have had every reason to want Martin gone.

Elias wasn’t done ranting, either. “But no, Jon comes waltzing out of the Lonely hand in hand with his new boyfriend, and Peter’s dead. Absolutely typical. And I’m sure if he has any form of consciousness beyond the grave he’d be bloody _pleased_ about it too! He’d probably hate being stuck in this tower with me as much as you will, but he still would have been my first choice, yes.” Finally he paused for breath and raised an eyebrow when he looked back up to check Martin’s face. “Oh. That bothers you, does it? Not being my first choice for apocalyptic consort?”

“No! I mean, god I don’t know! It’s a bit… I mean, it makes sense obviously. You were married to him first after all, of course you’d want… I’m not bothered! It’s just weird you’d pick me as a replacement I guess? I mean, yeah alright, I can see wanting to get back at Jon. And I was Peter’s assistant and have a connection to the Lonely, and we’re both… taller than you I guess?”

“And a similar body type,” Elias’s eyes were travelling down again and Martin slapped him when they settled somewhere inappropriate. He rubbed his jaw, but to Martin’s disgust he snickered. “More prone to physical violence though I see. That’s a perk, I usually had to goad Peter much harder to get him to hit me.”

Martin paused for a moment, remembering the armoire vividly all of a sudden. “Oh my god, that stuff’s for me to use on _you_ , isn’t it?”

“Ooh, a quick study, too. You see Martin? You’re full of surprises. I’m sure with you at my side, eternity’s just going to fly right by.”

“This is ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.” Martin ran a hand down his face trying desperately to think. “I’m… I’m gonna… god I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m not going to sleep with you, and I’m not staying in here.” Martin made to march out of the throne room- he could not in good conscious even consider this an office- when Elias spoke up behind him yet again.

“I did set aside that poetry book you seemed to like. It’s in the sitting room on your chair.”

“It’s not _my_ chair,” Martin stressed, but well… he was pretty wound up at the moment. Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to read a little poetry to calm down. He might think better afterward. “Fine, but _don’t_ bother me.”

“Yes, yes, if you insist. I’ve got my show to watch anyway,” Elias waved Martin off as he ascended the steps to his chair and seated himself, eyes immediately fixed on that very distant horizon.

With a huff, Martin turned and strode out of the room, slamming the door shut as hard as he could manage.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin's getting bored, and Elias isn't helping.

**4**

“ _If ever two were one, then surely we/If ever man were loved by wife, then thee/If ever wife was happy in a man,/Compare with me ye women if you can_.” Martin was reciting in the tower, having carried the smaller chair from the sitting room in again and set it up under Jon. He had started reading the book in front of the fire, but he found himself startled by the stupid eye drones doing fly-bys outside the window whenever he reached a good bit. Even when he was faced away from them, he could still feel their eyes on him far stronger than the eyes of the Beholding (or maybe Elias if they were different enough to distinguish).

“ _I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,/or all the riches that the East doth hold./My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,/Nor aught but love from thee, give recompense._ ” Even when he had moved into the tower with the impression that at least Jon’s gaze would be constant and not unexpected, reading quietly to himself had started to feel… wrong. Like there was someone listening. Well, there more than likely was, but it was uncomfortable even knowing that for sure. At least if he read out loud, he could pretend he was choosing for someone else to hear him.

“ _Thy love is such I can no way repay,/The heavens reward thee manifold I pray_.” He had read a little poetry to Jon before, but he hadn’t seemed very interested in most of it. The only time Martin ever really seemed to catch his attention was when he read love poetry. He’d only done it once, and Jon had blushed so brightly he’d hidden his face in his hands. It had been adorable. According to him, Martin had spoken unusually passionately, and well, that had made Martin blush too. At least Jon had been too embarrassed to be able to peek between his fingers and catch him at it.

Martin had intended to read Jon one of his own love poems he had written for him the next day, but then the world had ended, and it just hadn’t seemed appropriate at the time. It still didn’t, not really. But he thought maybe reading Jon some love poetry (even if it wasn’t his own) might spark something in the distant figure now. “ _Then while we live, in love lets so persevere/That when we live no more, we may live ever.”_

Letting the last word echo freely in the empty room, Martin held his finger on the page and closed the cover on it. He liked to do this any time he finished a poem so he could let the message sink in better without feeling his eyes temptingly drawn to the next poem too fast. Reading a book of poetry was different than prose. The goal wasn’t to extract information as quickly as possible, it was to take in a little at a time and reflect on how it made one feel.

That’s probably why Jon hated it, honestly. He’d always been impatient. Martin had clearly failed to anticipate how much so, seeing as he hadn’t realised that Jon running straight into the middle of the tower after getting a weird look on his face might be extremely bad until it had been too late to catch him.

Martin leaned back in the chair and stared up at Jon. He seemed the same as ever. Creepily mumbling to himself with his eyes open. In fact, it reminded Martin so starkly of every time Jon had ‘slept’ on their journey so far that Martin had to suppress a rather large yawn.

Elias seemed to have kept his promise of not bothering Martin so far, at least. A small mercy. He’d managed to get through nearly a third of the poetry book undisturbed. He hated to admit it, but there _was_ something a little nice about being able to enjoy poetry on his own (more or less) without any time-sensitive commitments or bodily needs to attend to and disturb him from it.

Martin sighed, shaking his head slowly and looking back at the book in his hands. He hadn’t thought about the poem at all for however long he had just spent in silence. It didn’t matter so much he supposed, it wasn’t a long poem. He could read it again. He just wasn’t sure he was still in the mood for it. Poetry wasn’t really meant to be read all in one sitting after all. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t much else available to occupy him unless he wanted to find something else to read and he wasn’t sure he was up for that either.

He sat quietly for a while longer before coming to a decision. He still couldn’t think of another way to effectively get at Jon with the materials he’d seen thus far, and reading wasn’t doing it for him, and he certainly wasn’t about to go try to take a nap in Nightmare Tower, so that left one option. Go bother Elias. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.

Yet again the door to Elias’s throne room opened without fanfare, and Martin was greeted to the sight of Elias looking out over the horizon. Unlike Jon, Elias didn’t have eyes over every inch of his body, but the two he did have were opened unnaturally wide and seemed to take up more of his face than they should have. They glowed, though not with any particular colour, and they made no move toward Martin even as he walked in front of him and looked up at his little pedestal.

Elias had always looked a bit too young to be in the job he had, though over the nine years that Martin had worked for the Institute his face had lined enough that the new hires didn’t immediately assume nepotism was involved in his placement. Martin had no idea how old the real Elias Bouchard had been when Jonah Magnus took on his identity, but the man could easily be read as being in his early forties, short and lean but not skinny like Jon was. Broad in the chest, tapered at the waist, high cheekbones, short dark hair. An easy, generic sort of good looking that likely appealed to a vain creature like Jonah Magnus. Combined with his pristine and expensive suits, surely not even the swankiest club in pre-apocalypse London would have thought to refuse him entry. Not that Elias seemed much like a club person. Actually, given what Martin had seen from him since he’d reached the panopticon, it didn’t seem like Elias much liked spending time with regular people at all. Corporate get-togethers must’ve been a nightmare for a man whose perfect eternity was an infinite library and watching people suffer. No wonder he married an avatar of the Lonely.

“What does it really mean to be the King of the Ruined World, anyway?” Martin asked after watching Elias silently for a time, unsure if the man could hear him when he was like this but unwilling to get close enough to physically jerk him out of his revelry, especially after that unexpected kiss earlier. He wished he could forget it, but the ghost of the man’s touch lingered on his lips as though it left an oily residue.

Whether Elias could hear him or not, he didn’t answer right away so Martin went on as he began to pace the floor, tempted to follow Elias’s gaze out the window and denying himself the urge to satisfy his curiosity. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve got servants to boss around or hold court? Unless you count what you’re doing _now_ as holding court. Jon had the power to make and destroy avatars, do you do the same thing? Is that all there is to it? I guess you’re basically just an avatar running a domain too, though. Do you control London then, or do you have other avatars running it for you? I can’t imagine you’d bother with it yourself if you could delegate, you were never really into micro-managing.”

“Martin, is there something you wanted?” Martin turned with a brief start to see Elias’s eyes had returned to normal and now he was viewing him with disinterest, his chin resting on his hand.

“Just bored,” Martin admitted with a shrug. “I’m done reading for now, and Jon is still, well, busy I guess.”

“I could suggest some entertainment, but I doubt you’re in a place to agree to it just yet.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to fuck you.”

“Then I don’t see why you bothered coming in.”

“Well you’ve got to have something else!” Martin snapped. “You were hoping to spend eternity with Peter, surely you weren’t planning to just read, watch stuff, and then meet up for sex? Oh for fuck’s sake, of course you did, it was _Peter_. It’s not like he’s going to sit down to play chess or Cluedo…”

“Yes, too much social interaction for him.” Elias quirked an eyebrow. “Are you saying you would be amendable to spending time with me if it wasn’t inherently sexual in nature?”

“I’m saying there isn’t much else here for me to do, and if I’m going to get Jon back I’m going to need more information about this place and what happened to him, and I’m not going to get that by avoiding you entirely.”

Elias hummed and stretched his back like a pleased cat. “Not that I didn’t expect there to be an ulterior motive, but I’m surprised you’d be so boldfaced about it.”

“What’s the point in trying to hide it if you can just read my mind?” Martin shot back.

“True. Very well, what did you want to do? I can manifest any board game if that’s what you insist on, though frankly I cannot stand chess. Technology would be trickier I’m afraid, the Entities were still struggling with integrating to it when the world ended. Their attempts were always a bit too… physical, for the delicacy of the internet and virtual space. It’s a shame, there’s certainly plenty of potential for fear with such things and attempts were made of course, but that’s work that will likely remain unfinished now.”

“That’s fine, I was never that interested in video games anyway. And er, well I don’t actually know how to play chess and I don’t believe for a second you wouldn’t read my mind to cheat anyway, so that’s out. But ah, I like checkers?”

Elias snorted, but didn’t call Martin childish for the suggestion, and seemed amendable.

*

“King me,” Elias grinned as yet another black piece hopped its way to the other side of the board. Martin glared but dutifully flipped the piece over to show the crown side up. The two were in the sitting room (Martin didn’t really want Jon watching him directly play a game with Elias, he could put up with the eye drones if he had to). Elias had made up a little gaming table between the two chairs, and the fireplace did add a certain amount of cheerful ambience to the room even if Martin wasn’t thrilled with his company.

“You’re cheating.”

“I thought you chose checkers specifically because you thought it would be easier for me to cheat at chess?”

“I thought with checkers it would be easier to act without thinking so you couldn’t figure out what I was doing, actually.”

“Sorry Martin, there’s still strategy in checkers. Though for the record, I’m not hm… _actively_ reading your mind. I don’t have to really, especially if you’re not even trying to make a plan.”

“Yeah sure, as if you wouldn’t do it the second you realise you might lose.”

Elias shrugged. “You picked the game, Martin, knowing full well what sort of person I am. We can play something else if you’d prefer.”

“Fine. Let’s do a card game. Something luck based.”

The checkerboard was gone when Martin looked down, replaced by a simple deck of casino-brand playing cards. Elias picked it up and shuffled it, raising an eyebrow at Martin. “I find two person poker a little dull, myself.”

“I don’t know how to play poker, either.”

“I suppose gambling is a bit hard when you have nothing to gamble with, anyway.” Then Elias’s eyes lit up, “Unless _strip_ poker is on the table?”

“Stop it. And I just said I don’t know how to play.”

“I could teach you.”

“Shut up. Let’s just play Go Fish.”

“Tell me Martin, do you _exclusively_ play games designed for five year olds or is this simply your desire to annoy me making itself known again?”

“If you’re going to be like this, you can go back to staring out the window and maybe I’ll entertain myself by trying to set your library on fire.”

“Ah yes, a callback to the good old days when you sat on the sidelines distracting me while your friends suffered through The Unknowing. I suppose that does seem equitable to our current situation, though you’re hardly distracting me like this.”

“Are you going to deal or not?”

Elias sighed and looked supremely put upon as he deal out five cards each and left the deck face down in the middle. “I’ll go first then, shall I?” Elias said, immediately drawing three cards from the deck and setting down a pair of twos. Martin scowled.

“You’re supposed to ask if I have any… something, first.”

“I know, but you didn’t have any, so I thought I’d speed this along.”

“Don’t look at my cards!”

“I can’t help it, Martin. I see everything in here. In fact if I spare a moment’s thought I can tell us exactly what order all the cards in this deck are in, the only unknown right now is which cards you’ll ask me if I have, and even then I could hazard a pretty good guess.”

Martin threw his hand down and pouted. “Well this was pointless then. Fine, let’s do… logic. But not chess. Cluedo. Let’s play Cluedo.”

Elias started at Martin with a completely straight face as the cards vanished and the dark blue Cluedo board appeared in front of them, all set up. Martin insisted on shuffling and distributing the cards, tucking the solution into its packet and secretly (well probably not secretly under the circumstances) annoyed that Elias claimed Professor Plum.

“Alright, did you want to go first?” Martin asked.

“Certainly.” Elias said with an amused smile. “It was Miss Peacock in the Study with a Pipe Wrench.”

Martin stared at Elias. He looked at the packet. He opened it, quietly looked at the cards and closed his eyes. Then he calmly stood up and flipped the table, storming out of the room as Elias laughed uproariously behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Martin recites to Jon is called "To My Dear and Loving Husband" by Anne Bradstreet. I googled 17th century poets and picked the first decent love poem I saw, I'm not proud just needed something to make me feel vaguely sad for hanging Jon from the ceiling like a Christmas bauble.


End file.
